


Turn it up, Heat it up

by Lenore



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pining, Plot What Plot, Porn, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-19
Updated: 2010-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy likes to snoop while housesitting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn it up, Heat it up

Tommy has never cared much for being alone. He prefers noise and stuff going on and people hanging around. Which is a good thing, since he's permanently broke and has never had an apartment that didn't come with a handful of roommates. _God, do you seriously have to wait in line to pee? How can you stand that?_ Mia asks every time she comes over to his place. Sharing a bathroom is a breakdown in civilization as far as she's concerned. Tommy never thinks about it, never minds the piles of other people's crap scattered around the living room or the funky smell of macrobiotic cooking that lingers in the kitchen or even the telltale sounds that filter through the spit-and-Kleenex thin walls when his roommate's girlfriend sleeps over.

Still, whenever Adam asks him to housesit, he always does, because it's Adam, and Tommy would say yes to pretty much anything Adam wanted, and he's not going to lie. Adam's house is a hell of a lot nicer than Tommy's crappy apartment. A few days in the land of big screen TV and well-stocked refrigerator and furniture that's in absolutely no danger of collapsing feels a little like a vacation.

(The first time Adam asked the favor, he pressed the spare keys into Tommy's hand, his voice low and flirty, _You should just keep these, because, hey, you never know when you'll need them._ Tommy gets a flutter in his stomach whenever he thinks about it, even though Adam being flirty is just Adam being alive, and it's not like that between them, and probably never will be.)

It's been three days already of Adam on the other coast, a string of interviews and press appearances in New York as he gears up for the tour. He's due back tomorrow, thank God, because Tommy is going a little stir crazy. Completely his own fault of course, but that's just the way it goes. He likes to swim in Adam-ness during these housesitting gigs, so he usually stays in, but most of his friends aren't housebroken enough to invite over. After a while, the solitude starts to get to him.

Inevitably he ends up calling the one person he can trust not to trash the place.

"Keep me company," he says plaintively when Mia picks up.

"Housesitting for Adam, huh?" She sounds distracted, like maybe he's caught her painting her nails.

"I'm bored," he complains.

"So, go out."

Tommy fleetingly considers it, but if he goes out, he'll want to hook up with somebody, and he's not going to bring a girl back here, because…he's just not.

"Come over," he says, not above begging.

"Can't, lollipop. Got a date."

Tommy frowns. "Not the guy with the tattoo of himself on his leg." Because that guy is a jerk.

"Nope, the one with the really big dick," Mia tells him cheerfully. "So, yeah, not canceling just because you're Adam-less. Sorry, Tommy baby."

"What am I supposed to do?" he whines, even though he knows he sounds like a brat.

She laughs at him. "What you always do when you're housesitting. Jerk off in his bed and think about how dreamy he is."

"That's not funny!"

She giggles. "It really kind of is, sweetie."

Tommy has never even slept in Adam's bed, although he'd be lying if he said he's never been tempted. He confines his guilty housesitting pleasures to snooping. After he hangs up with Mia, he pads around the house aimlessly, opening cabinets in the kitchen, scanning the CDs stacked on the shelf in the living room, not that there are any surprises, but he likes to look. Tommy doesn't think Adam would mind, not really, and anyway, what he doesn't know can't hurt him.

In Adam's bedroom, Tommy wanders over to the night table, a frequently visited attraction, and opens the top drawer, where Adam keeps the condoms and lube. He imagines Adam in this bed, making use of these supplies, naked and intense. A look on his face that Tommy will never get to see for himself.

(The first and last time Tommy made a move on Adam, he was drunk off his ass, hyped up after a show, still buzzing from the music and the crowd and having Adam's hands all over him on stage. The VIP room at the club was so dark it felt like privacy, and Tommy ended up on a sofa with Adam, curled against him, giddy with alcohol and affection. Adam was warm and solid, and he smelled so good, and it just seemed to make sense for Tommy to press his lips to Adam's throat, taste the salt of his skin, put his hand on Adam's cock and feel its shape with his palm. Seemed to make sense until Adam grabbed his wrist. _Baby, you're drunk, and it's not like that with us. You don't want this._ It sounded more like an order than an observation, and Tommy was suddenly, painfully sober.)

He shuts the drawer too hard, rattling the lamp on the night table, and makes a detour over to the other side of the room. No use thinking about what he can't have. He sifts through Adam's dresser, brushing his fingers over the soft cotton of T-shirts. Adam bought this place for the walk-in wonderland of a closet, Tommy is pretty sure, and he steps inside, strolls along the rack of clothes. _Strolls_, because it's seriously that enormous, and still it can barely contain Adam's wardrobe. Tommy presses his face into a shirt, black and formal and silky, something Adam wore to some premiere, although Tommy can't remember which one. He imagines Dior Homme instead of dry cleaning chemicals when he breathes in.

The back of the closet is less organized, stuff haphazardly crammed onto shelves and piled on the floor. Tommy plunks down onto the carpet to investigate. He flips through boxes of accessories that Adam appears to have abandoned and keepsakes sent by fans and the gutted remains of gift bags from events past. A sparkly silver container draws his attention, a giveaway from the GLAAD awards he remembers. When he peers inside, he catches bright candy colors and the distinctive scent of silicone.

(Backstage, after they'd performed, Adam had rifled through the gift bag, amusingly enthusiastic, _Oooh, the [TENGA egg](http://www.thepeekaboo.com/products/Tenga_Egg_Tray_Clicker_6pk-1350-0.html). That's totally been on my list._ Tommy watched over his shoulder. _You know you're a big star when you get the sexy swag,_ he teased. _Baby, I'm totally willing to share._ Adam winked, saucy and grinning and so very, very Adam, and, shit, Tommy felt it all over, a shiver of want, half hopeful, half desperate. _He's just being…him. He's not trying to tease me._ But for the rest of the night, Tommy had this weird feeling in his stomach. He was pretty sure it was disappointment.)

The TENGA egg has gone missing, which makes Tommy smirk, and he's just about to move on when a glimmer of pink catches his attention. He digs it out and squints at the box, [OhMiBod](http://www.ohmibod.com/freestyle.html), which doesn't mean anything to him until he reads the package, and then his cheeks go hot. Because. _Because_. He's got an iPod full of Adam songs, and it's never going to be like that between them, and if he changes the sheets on Adam's bed, nobody ever has to know.

He's not sure whether to thank Mia or bitch her out for putting the idea in his head.

In his fantasies, the bed always smells like Adam, but when Tommy throws back the covers, all he gets is a big whiff of Tide, sharp and bright, the sheets freshly changed. Not that this keeps him from making himself at home, bouncing on the mattress before settling down, popping the button on his jeans and wriggling out of them, tossing his T-shirt on the floor. He's been hard since he found the OhMiBod. Okay, whatever, since Mia mentioned the words "Adam" and "jerking off." Tommy runs a finger along the length of his erection and shivers. Fuck, he's in _Adam's bed_.

His eagerness deflates a bit when he finally manages to pry open the OhMiBod case and gets an actual look at the vibrator. He's never had anything in his ass but fingers, and the fact that this thing is pink and not nearly as large as Adam's dick (which Tommy can still feel, hot and hard against his palm, if he closes his eyes) doesn't make it any less intimidating. Tommy puts it aside for the moment, wets his finger in his mouth, pulls his knees to his chest, and touches his hole lightly. His cock jerks, and he sucks in his breath sharply, and he imagines Adam's long fingers, the metal of his rings cool and startling on Tommy's heated skin.

"Fuck," he says out loud.

On stage, Tommy can feel Adam's voice as much as hear it, the vibration so intense it's like it becomes part of him. He imagines that sensation, only more intimate, as he pushes the tip of his finger into his ass, and _Oh fuck, oh fuck!_

He fumbles with the lube, sticky stuff dripping through his fingers in his eagerness, and he flinches at the first cool touch, too impatient to waste time warming it up. He pushes in a finger and then a second, and fucks down onto his hand, biting his lip, picturing Adam doing that, opening him up, owning his insides.

The vibrator feels more yielding than it looks, which Tommy is thankful for. He rolls a condom on it and slicks it up and pushes it in, grunting at the pressure. It's straight, not curved like a cock, and taking it up the ass is probably fucking weird no matter what the circumstances. Still, if this is the closest Tommy's ever going to get to Adam, then he's damned well going to have the full experience. He takes a breath and lets it out, and the toy slips in a little more, little more, until it's all the way inside.

The ear buds slide in his slick grasp, his fingers clumsy, but he gets them in, and then Adam is right there, in his head and…shit! He arches off the bed as the beat pulses inside him, Adam-ness lighting up every nerve ending he has. He squeezes his eyes shut and pants, his cock lying flat against his belly, spitting come. _Oh fuck, oh fuck_, except he can't get the words out, because there's no breath left in his body.

He lies there almost helplessly, shaking like he's going to fly apart, while Adam sings and sings, and if Tommy makes embarrassingly needy little noises as he pictures Adam, big and gorgeous and all over him, they get lost in the music. He pulls his own hair, and his cock jumps against his belly, and he pushes down hard onto the vibrator. So good. So close to what he really wants.

It's easy to get lost, balanced on the fine edge of needing to come and wanting this to go on forever. When he opens his eyes to find Adam standing over him, his first muzzy thought is: _Did I seriously spend an entire day with that thing up my ass?_ His second thought, which he blurts out, is, "Oh, shit!"

Adrenaline floods him, and he instinctively reaches for his cock, pulling at it urgently, gaze locked on Adam, possibly not the smartest reaction he could have, but oh God, oh God. _Adam_. There's nothing playful in Adam's expression, his eyes hard and bright, his lips pressed together. Tommy swallows hard. Adam is the sweetest person he knows, but when he's pissed, he can be really fucking scary. Tommy watches wide-eyed as Adam presses a knee against the mattress and climbs onto the bed.

Tommy has no idea what's coming, and he flinches in surprise when Adam presses a kiss to the inside of his calf. Adam fixes a look on him, long and thoughtful, and then drops a kiss to Tommy's knee and stretches up his body, making a place for himself between Tommy's spread thighs. He takes out one of the ear buds so he can listen, his mouth curving up at the sound of "Fever."

"I guess you really do want it, huh?" He licks Tommy's ear. "Good thing I caught an earlier flight."

They've kissed…well, Tommy has lost count of how many times. They've kissed hello and goodbye, kissed to raise eyebrows and blow off steam, kissed to give the fangirls something to talk about, kissed on national fucking television, but they've never kissed like this, just for the sheer sweetness of kissing. Adam tastes like coffee and booze from the plane, and Tommy lifts his head off the pillow, straining forward, trying to get more of him, wanting to climb inside Adam's skin.

"Mmm," Adam murmurs encouragingly, and he kisses Tommy again, biting at his bottom lip, before pulling away and kneeling up between Tommy's legs. "So hot, baby." He runs his hands over Tommy's chest, thumbs rubbing at Tommy's nipples, making them stand up, making Tommy push greedily into his touch.

Adam nods. "Uh-huh. Gonna give you what you need." He brushes a kiss to Tommy's belly and runs a finger teasingly along Tommy's erection.

Tommy whimpers, a sound that's trying to be the word "please." Adam takes this as a cue to play with the vibrator, moving it in and out of Tommy's body with firm strokes. Every time it hits Tommy's prostate, it sends hot sparks all through him. Adam strings kisses up Tommy's thigh. He still has the ear bud in, and he sings along with himself, his breath a warm whisper on Tommy skin, and that's it. Adam overload. Tommy comes all over himself.

He's heavy-limbed afterward, his vision kind of blurry, and when he feels Adam moving away, he wants to say he's sorry, because he seriously might have fucked things up between them, but words are just too much work at the moment. Adam comes back soon enough, naked, his cock hard and covered with a condom. He kneels next to Tommy, carefully pulls the vibrator from Tommy's ass, scoops Tommy up, and manhandles him into his lap, lowering him onto his cock.

"Oh, shit!"

It's one thing to know Adam is big, and another thing to have Adam's enormous dick inside him. Tommy is suddenly hyper aware, every cell in his body turned on like a switch, the post-orgasm haze a distant memory. He takes a shaky breath, his body stretched past the point of comfort, a panicky flutter in the pit of his stomach.

Adam runs a hand soothingly down Tommy's back. "It's okay, baby. I've got you." He leans in, his voice going lower, breath tickling Tommy's ear. "You are so fucking gorgeous. Do you have any idea how good you feel?"

The kiss Tommy lays on Adam is kind of all over the place, fumbling and hungry. Adam strokes his hands through Tommy's hair and hums as he kisses back. Tommy relaxes into Adam's arms, the stretched-too-far sensation starting to fade, his body opening up for Adam.

"Fuck!" he shouts when Adam's cock hits the right spot.

"You love that." Adam smiles, and it's not a question.

Tommy wraps his arms around Adam's neck, clinging, rubbing his dick against Adam's stomach. Adam fucks up into him, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts Tommy's hips, so fucking strong.

"Adam, Adam," Tommy begs.

There are going to be marks all over him from Adam's hands, on his ass, his hips, Adam's fingers pressing in hard, and just the thought of it makes Tommy push down more urgently on Adam's cock.

Adam keeps up a steady, whispered litany in Tommy's ear. "Come on, come on, come on, come on."

Tommy bites his lip and spills all over Adam's chest.

"Fuck yeah." Adam goes wild, shoving up into Tommy again and again until he comes.

They collapse in a messy heap on the bed, Adam's arm caught beneath Tommy's body, their legs tangled together. Tommy tucks his head beneath Adam's chin, fingers moving idly over Adam's ribs. "Um, so." He has no idea what to say, how to explain. "Um."

Adam brushes a kiss to his hair. Tommy can feel him smiling. "Baby, that's the best welcome home I've ever had."

Tommy tilts his head up, giving Adam a hopeful look.

Adam strokes a thumb along the line of Tommy's cheek, his expression bemused and tender. "I guess it is like that between us, huh?"

Tommy presses his face against Adam's chest, smiling hard.

"We'll have to see what else is in that gift bag," Adam says, voice rough, like he's about to drift off.

Tommy can't think of anything he'd rather do.


End file.
